>(Writer’s Note: I wrote the following story for a writing contest at Satisfied Heart. It is a story of friendship. The Lord has greatly blessed me with many sisters of the heart who have held my hand through times of pain and have rejoiced in seasons of blessing. I chose to focus this story on my friend Jaime because of God’s provision of that friendship at a specific moment in time cannot be disputed.)
Moving is hard. Moving across the country with a three-year-old drama queen, a three-month old nursing infant, and an epileptic dog…harder. Add moving away from a band of Christian friends, who became our chosen family, to a city where no one is known and the word hard changes to Herculean. And did I mention that I was being treated for postpartum depression and that this was our eighth move in eight years? That information almost boosts Herculean up a notch to traumatic.As someone who delights in the title “trooper,” I readied myself for the challenge. Armed with God’s truth, prayer, a cheery disposition, and a month’s worth of Lexapro, I got into our loaded Nissan and followed my husband’s lead east bound..
Within days of unloading belongings into our new apartment, my kids and I attended a MOPS meeting. I entered late and frazzled, but my table leader, Jaime greeted me warmly and welcomed me to the group. As mothers to short and sassy little girls about the same age, Jaime and I formed an instant connection. I knew immediately that we would be friends, and just a few weeks later I would discover that our friendship was of Divine providence.
Within a month in our new home, I slid down a slick tunnel into a miry pit of depression and postpartum anxiety and OCD mood disorder. Overwhelmed and hurting, the eyes to my soul captured only despair. In tears I confided my sorrow in another heart sister from our former city. I cried that I was so overwhelmed with everyday life, but had no one to help me. I balked when she inquired if I was certain that there was no one I could trust.
What does she expect me to say? Hi, I’m Angela and I’m on a verge of a nervous breakdown and could really use a friend. I also would love it if you could watch my three-year-old for a few hours while my son naps, and oh, yeah, would you happen to know of a good Christian counselor and psychiatrist? And, I’m too much of a basketcase to reciprocate in any way, but maybe in a few months. Thanks a bunch.
How anyone could befriend a wreck like me was unfathomable.
Earlier that week, Jaime called and invited me to a play date at a local Chick-Fil-A. I said that I would try to attend, but when that morning rolled around I found myself too overwhelmed and confused to make it out the door Later that day Jaime sent me a simple E-mail. “You’ve been on my heart. Are you doing O.K?” At that moment, the Holy Spirit nudged me, Trust her. I prepared this friendship for you, beloved. Trust me. Tell her that you’re hurting.
To read this story in its entirety, click here. There are other wonderful stories in the contest as well. Each comment at Satisfied Heart counts as a vote.